Prompts
by DowntonIsMyLife
Summary: Collection of my responses to the Chelsie - Anon prompts. Spoilers for Series 5 CS in chapter 6.
1. The Beach

**Elsie had admonished him to leave the serving on the sand covered beach to the younger and more agile footmen but he had taken her remark as a slight to his abilities as Butler and insisted on being in attendance the entire day. Charles performed admirably but at the very end of the day, he was hot and tired and took a misstep in the sand. They both heard a loud popping sound followed by a crack as he collapsed into a heap on the sand. What happens next?**

Elsie was already on her way over to him to once again attempt convincing him to stop for the night, when she saw him collapse to the ground she broke into a run and hurried towards him making a quick scan of the surrounding area to check for blood or anything sharp he could have hurt himself on.

Kneeling beside him, she placed a gentle hand on his arm,

"Mr Carson are you alright?"

Groaning slightly he pushed himself up into a sitting position,

"Yes Mrs Hughes I'm fine, everything in tact but my pride."

"Well, lets get you up and take you back," she hooked her arm under his, "you could do with a rest."

"Yes Mrs Hughes." He was too hot and tired to argue, not to mention he knew better than any where the cut off point with an argument with Elsie was.

They managed to manoeuvre themselves back to tent built for the servants and into a chair. Elsie knelt in front of him and began to untie his shoe laces.

"Mrs Hughes! What on earth are you doing?!"

"Untying your shoe what does it look like?"

"I know that but…why?" He was becoming incredibly flustered, just the sight of her knelt in front of him made him blush profusely but to have her undress him? This was highly improper.

"Your ankle gave way and you fell on it - I need to check it is not injured."

"I think I would be able to tell, you really don't have to."

"Let me check anyway Mr Carson!" Placing his shoe to one side she pushed down his sock a little to take a look at his ankle. Holding it between her hands, using her thumbs to softly press at it gauging his reactions. Whenever he occasionally winced she would trace a circle around the area as if cataloguing it to memory.

"Well I don't think it's broken, or sprained…" she used her thumbs to rub at the most tender area, massaging the knot that'd formed.

Charles leaned back his head and sighed, never in his life had he been given a foot massage, and he was certainly glad his first came from the woman in front of him.  
The woman in question was watching him, smiling at the expression of pleasure he wore. Moving her hands down to his foot, smoothing her thumbs up the base and back down to his heel.

He found himself relaxing, the heat, the exhaustion, the massage and the light wiff of lavender he could smell. Even she could tell he was beginning to drift off as his ankle was becoming more limp in her hands. As his breathing became heavier and his head lolled to the side, she caught four words;

"Thank you my love…"


	2. Valentines Day

**"You know he'll never make the first move!" said Beryl over a late night glass of port. "If you don't want to be sat in that parlour of yours, discussing Lady Mary and Mr. George, on Valentine's Day, you'll have to take that bull-headed butler by the horns!" Elsie smiled as she remembered their fit of giggles but Beryl was right. If ever he was to be shifted off his davit of propriety, it would fall to her. Leaving him busy with the staff Valentines, she put her plan into motion. What happens next?**

She'd never considered herself the romantic type, but when it came down to it she had to hand it to herself, her ability to plan and organise had contributed to a perfect end to Valentines day.

The day had been ever the same as every Valentines day, younger staff donned silly grins for the majority of the day, besides those that spent it moping from receiving no word from a sweetheart. Realistically they should have come down hard on them , keeping up the rule of no callers or romance between staff but they just, couldn't, not on the day of love, even Mr Carson seemed unable to tell them to stop.

After finally shooing them all off to their beds, and sending up a silent prayer that they'd stay there tonight, Elsie put her plan into order.

Turning off the electric light she'd opted for the fire and an assortment of candles to provide a dim light throughout the room that flickered off the walls, she'd always found this lighting made her a little easier on the lines, the wrinkles and grey hairs of recent years faded away.

Instead of wine she'd gone for two snifters of brandy, sitting on the table in front of her settee, these were joined by a box of chocolates wrapped in a blue ribbon.

She'd thought about changing into something less severe than her housekeeper dress, but realised there was seldom point as she hardly had anything more revealing and attune to a mans taste, and nothing of remote finery. She would have to stay in her black. However she had time to loosen her hair at the sides, letting a few tendrils fall beside her ears.

Sitting slightly nervously on her settee, she fiddled with her hands in her lap as she waited, the clock had already struck eleven and he wasn't yet here. It was some forty minutes later when he finally did come to her sitting room and by then, Elsie was curled up, and fast asleep.

He smiled softly at the relaxed image of her sleeping form, the slow rising and falling of her chest, her nose twitching ever so slightly and the smallest of smiles on her lips. He took in the change to her room; the fire had burned down, including the majority of candles, her brandy had been slightly drunk whilst his still stood untouched as were the chocolates.

After taking a swig of his brandy, he took the blanket from the back of the settee and laid it over her, tucking it around her and placing the softest of kisses to her forehead,

"Sleep well my love"

Placing a card atop the chocolates he took one final look at his sleeping sweetheart and left. The sound of the door clicking shut brought a wider smile to her face; maybe neither of them needed to make the first move to know.


	3. Master George

**Charles had gathered Elsie into his arms when he heard rapping. He opened the door to find 5 year old Master George with a fierce scowl. Pushing the Butler's knee, he marched in and announced to the room, "A word, Carson?" "I'll be in my parlour," Elsie said quietly, pulling the door to peek through the gap. Fists on hips, George tipped his head back as far as it would go and stared up at the man. "I've decided to run away, Carson, would you have Morris bring the motorcar around?" What happens next?**

Elsie could have burst out laughing were it not for her hand pressed over her mouth to stifle this. Ever the unflappable butler, Charles remained blank and nodded at the request, frowning slightly.

"Doesn't a motorcar defeat the object of running away?"

This made the boy think for a moment, "I only have little legs, and I can't run very fast"

The young boy, bright blue eyes and floppy blonde hair, looked so serious as he made his request to the butler, stumbling back a little in his effort to look up. Charles noted this and picked him up so they were of equal height.

"And why would you want that young sir?"

"I want to find my Papa"

Elsie's face literally dropped. They'd dreaded the day the lad would ask about his father. The family did all they could to avoid the subject, even monitored stories read to him, but they were fools to think they could hide it forever.

"May I ask why sir?"

"Sybbie has her Papa. I want mine. But he's not here, I looked. So I will go out and find him."

"You're right lad he's not here, but he's also not out there either."

George blinked, frowning slightly.

"Where is he?"

Charles let out a sigh, it was not for the servants to explain such things as death to the boy but how else could they get around it.  
He sat in his arm chair, wrapping an arm around the child, the other resting on his knee.

"He's gone I'm afraid."

"Gone away? Like a holiday?"

He shook his head, "No lad not a holiday."

"Well…is he coming back?"

Taking a moment to compose himself Charles admitted; "No."

It took seconds for the boy's eyes to fill with tears, which pierced Charles' heart.

"Why won't he come back? Doesn't he want to see us?"

At this Charles' voice began to crack with repressed emotion, "I…I'm sure he would…give anything to."

"Then why won't he!" The boy was almost shrieking by this point, his lip trembled, his tears threatened to spill down his reddened cheeks and his little fists began pounding the butlers chest. However Charles was saved by the Elsie returning and kneeling in front of them, taking one of George's hands. The lad turned at this and two sets of piercing blue eyes met – he stilled, the warm eyes of the loving woman calming him instantly. She placed a photograph in his hand, a spare from a time long ago the family and senior staff had portraits taken for the family archives.

"That laddie," she pointed to Matthew, "is your Daddy.*

There was silence as he processed this information. He could recognise his mother easily so he knew it had to be real.

"Papa?"

Both adults nodded, carefully monitoring the boy's reaction.

"But…if he's here…where is he?"

Elsie bit her lip for a moment before explaining.

"You remember when your Aunt Edith says prayers with you and Miss Sybbie every night?" He nodded, "and you know who you're talking to?"

"God."

"That's right. Well, you're Daddy's gone to see him."

"So he is on holiday?"

"No laddie, Daddy passed away, which means he can't come back." The lad may not have understood but it didn't stop his lip from trembling, "but it's alright. Because God is taking good care of him, just as he's taking care of Miss Sybbie's Mammy, and they're both happy."

"But why can't he be happy down here, with me, and Mama?"

"Because when people pass away they can't come back, but God takes good care of them. And they're watching over you, just like him."

"So…Papa is watching me?"

She nodded. "He loves you, so he's making sure you're alright."

"He can still love me even though he's not here?"

"Always."

"Can I talk to him?"

"You can pray, he'll hear you, he may not be able to answer, but he can hear you."

This seemed to placate the boy, who held the photograph to his chest and looked up at the ceiling.

"I love you too Papa."

Tears sprang in the eyes of both adults and Elsie pressed her lips softly to the boy's hair.

"I should go back to nursery now shouldn't I?"

Charles lifted the boy to the floor. "You should, Nanny will be looking for you."

He held the photograph back out to Elsie but she shook her head "you keep it Master George, you can keep it by your bed."

He looked down at it and smiled, "When Aunt Edith does prayers I can hold it and say mine to Papa."

"You can."

"Thank you" He gave them both a small smile and headed for the door, "I promise I won't run away…"

"That might be best sir" Charles had helped Elsie up from the floor and they stood looking down at the boy in awe.

"…Else Mama wouldn't have anybody to cuddle." With that he left, slowly pottering out into the servant's hall and up the stairs, the photograph clasped to his chest.  
Leaving the heads of staff in a tight embrace overwhelmed by feelings brought by his visit, but never more glad to still have each other.

_I've never explained death to a child so this was actually harder than I thought and I probably should have gone with something fluffier, thank you VanillaPod for your help._

_How do you think I did? _

_xXx_


	4. Walking Back Together

"**Mr. Carson, shall we…walk back together?" Elsie scurried to catch up to him when he paused to consider her question, smiling to herself when he shuffled to place her to the inside, the way any gentleman would for his lady. They walked along in companionable silence until the Abbey came into view from a small rise in the road. Turning to look down, he studied her with unabashed curiosity, causing her to blush and turn her own gaze to study the tips of their shoes between them. What happens next?**

"You meddle far too much."

She raised her eyebrows, this was not what she'd been expecting to hear.

"I will not argue about it again. It had to be done."

"Yes, it did." He'd stopped walking all together at this point, so she turned to face him.

"My my, you agree with me now?" She took his silence to mean he did. "Well, you got there in the end."

"I know I snapped at you, and was rather harsh at first but, truly, thank you, for what you did."

A small smile graced her lips and she stepped towards him.

"I know, I act on what I _believe_ is the right thing, and will occasionally refuse to admit it if I'm wrong, but I only ever have your best interests at heart. I didn't do this to purposely hurt you, I knew it was for the best."

"And you were right. It just took me a while to see that."

"Say that again."

"You were right."

He could have sworn he saw her eyes sparkle, and her lips twitch upwards slightly before pursing and her face returning to its neutral housekeeper expression.

"Thank you Mr Carson, I appreciate that. But I'm just glad you parted in a more civil manner than before."

He gave a small nod in agreement and they began walking again.

"He informed me before he left, Grigg, that he and Alice hadn't worked out, they separated long ago."

Silently she was listening, but she waited for him to continue.

"And she wanted him to tell me she'd loved me instead."

Her features softened. After seeing the longing looks he'd given the photograph he'd found, she could well believe this was something of a comfort.

But instead he sighed, "She died five years ago." His voice wavering as he told her.

Biting her lip she glanced at him for a moment, he wore the same forlorn expression he had as he'd made his way along the platform before she'd scurried after him.

"But he wanted me to know, he never intended to steal her away. It was entirely her choice to leave me. Therefore, I cannot know if her words are of any comfort."

She turned as they reached the entrance to the servant's hall.

"I take it it's wine this evening then?"

And finally, something had brought a smile to his face.

_I wrote something canon that was platonic and accurate with no hint of romance ;_; Something of a first._

_xXx_


	5. The Wee Bairns

**It had been a very long day, first the garden party, then late supper, the last guest hadn't gone to bed until 2am. On his final rounds, walking past the nursery, Sybbie and Baby George were kicking up a fuss. Charles didn't envy the housemaid assigned to sit with them as a new nanny had not been found. He turned away just as a decidedly Scottish voice began to croon a lullaby. From the doorway, he saw Elsie in a rocker with Baby George while Sybbie stood crying in her crib. What happens next?**

She rocked George whilst attempting to placate Sybbie;

"Lass I'm sorry, I canne hold you as well. Don't cry dear."

The girl held onto the hand that stroked her cheek but continued to wail.

"Oh fine." Manoeuvring George onto her shoulder she wrapped an arm around Sybbie's waist, carefully lifting her onto her hip. His hand flexed against the doorframe, ready to run in if she dropped one of them. But there was no risk of that, Elsie skilfully positioned the children and sat back down, Sybbie nestled in the crook of her arm, the other arm cradling George.

Both children were then silent, comforted by the warmth of the woman they were snuggled against. Charles couldn't blame them, to be in Elsie's arms was a wonderful comforting place to be. He was mesmerised by the soft, loving look she gave the children in her arms. He could only describe it as a motherly glow. Pure love.

"You don't have to hide in the doorway Mr Carson."

Of course she would know he's there without having looked up. He quietly entered the room, making his way over and crouched before them. They didn't speak merely looked from one child to the other. George began to fuss, Elsie, not wishing to disturb Sybbie, held him out for Charles. Without question he took the boy onto his shoulder standing and beginning to pace the room, patting the boys back.  
The sight nearly brought tears to her eyes, the tall broad butler with a tiny human in his arms, carefully stroking his back to comfort him. Little fists gripping at his jacket.

"Mama…" She was distracted from her observation by a little voice from her lap.

"Shush…sleep lassie." She began her lullaby again, waiting for the girls eyes to droop before cuddling her to her chest. She didn't notice Charles' eyes on her watching in awe as she cuddled and sang to the girl. She had a motherly glow and natural warmth the children adored. He imagined she was the most loved member of staff by both the family and the servants.

In his arms the young boy yawned and sniffled, his little fingers curling and uncurling in front of him. He captured one with his finger, the child smiling up at him as he grasped it with his entire hand. Charles leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to George's hand.

"You'd have made a good father." A soft Scottish lilt caressed his ears as she made her way over to him, Sybbie fast asleep in her cot.  
Her words had him dwelling on his life choices. As she stood next to him he could see this being their lad, their daughter curled up in her cot, both with dark hair, bright blue eyes. A comfortable little cottage surrounded by a garden full of flowers their bairns would play in, woodlands they'd take walks through, and a lake where they'd teach their children to swim. The thoughts had him almost saddened by the choices he'd made.

"But I can't say I regret the path I chose, can you?"

She pondered for a moment before looking up to meet his gaze.

"No. Not one bit."

_What do you think?_

_xXx_


	6. The First Kiss

_I didn't get a prompt for this but it's just thought of the idea based on the scene in S1E01 when he goes to say goodnight to her and they share cute looks. I'm so excited to see their evenings together in Series 6 now they're engaged._

Their night-time routine of twenty years was not to be altered no matter the goings on of the house, therefore despite a long evening dinner, Mr Carson would still make sure he bid his fiancée goodnight before heading up. His protest against her staying up so late fell on deaf ears as she insisted she always had books to go over. They both knew however she stayed up to make sure she was the last person he saw every evening, and the first in the morning.

All too often nowadays he would stand in her doorway simply watching her, the reality of their situation still unbelievable to him, until she turned around that is, then her smile reminded him it wasn't a dream – she really was his love. His betrothed.

After slowly approaching her, he faintly cupped her cheek and tilted her head upwards.

"Goodnight my love." He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead.

Her eyed fluttered shut and she savoured the tender moment he had saved until they retired for the evening. Before he could make it out of the door she stood and called him to a halt.

"Charles? I was wondering if…what is it?" She'd started but his intense stare when he turned around caused her to falter.

"You've…never called me that. In the twenty years we've been acquainted, I've never heard you say it."

"Oh. I suppose I've not."

"Say it again."

"Charles."

He closed his eyes and sighed as her brogue rolled over the r's and extended the s.

"I had wondered if tonight perhaps, you'd kiss me goodnight, properly."

Since he proposed on Christmas Eve she hadn't seen, he'd barely been able to conceal his warm gaze towards her each time he saw her, the look implied his very heart would explode with love.

"Of course my lady." She'd thought with his voice, whispering would be impossible but she found he could lower his voice considerable and achieve a gentle rumble along with it.  
This would be their first kiss and her heart beat wildly in anticipation as he approached her. Too slowly for her liking so she raised herself onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, steadying herself by holding onto his arms. His slid around her back.

Their kiss ended quickly as their breath waned, thus they were forced to pull back and lay their foreheads together, now reluctant to leave each other for the evening.  
Elsie could feel him smile before he pressed the daintiest of kisses over her lips again, she couldn't help but laugh, overjoyed at the feelings he caused. Her laughter was infectious and soon the elated sound rang out from them both and they embraced tightly. It was some ten minutes before they released each other and Charles departed with a final delicate kiss to her forehead.

"Goodnight, Elsie."

_Please review if you have time __J_

_xXx_


	7. Chapter 7

_My oneshot for the 5th Day of the Chelsie Tumblr Countdown._

The Carson's walked home from the Abbey in near darkness, of all the events they had to put on at Downton, weddings were by far the most taxing as they ended late into the night, if they ended at all. Charles Carson could feel his wife's tiredness palpitating from her as she held his arm, she leaned on him far more than she would usually so he was very keen to get her off her feet. As they entered their modest abode he sighed in relief.

"I'm glad we ate at the house this evening." At this he was rewarded with a sharp look shot in his direction. "I only mean that it's been a long day. You outdid yourself on such short notice." He was reassured to see his compliment seemed to placate her as she removed her coat and hat.

"Oh I see…I agree with you though, I'm rather happy to be home."

As he walked through the hallway towards the stairs he felt her hand slip into his. It was not the tight grip of his fingers she'd exhibited in the church earlier she simply slid her fingertips over his hand. She was gently tracing the many lines adorning his palm as if reading it. Her touch was reverent. She was not a fragile woman but her touch was always so soft and careful.  
He didn't turn to question her reasons, instead he led her upstairs, comforted by the sound of her lighter treads behind him. When they reached their bedroom Charles pulled her in front of him so she could be enveloped in his arms. As soon as he did she sagged against him, allowing his bulk to keep her upright.

"My poor dear, you must be so tired." He gave her a sympathetic smile and dropped a quick kiss to her forehead as she nodded. "Let's get you into bed then."

It fascinated her, how his expression and tone could change the meaning of his words entirely. He had said this exact line on their honeymoon but it had contained a far more suggestive undertone. Charles must have thought back to the same moment as a slight smirk briefly ghosted his lips but he didn't comment. Instead he stepped away from her, letting his hands trail down her arms – mirroring her actions from earlier that day.

"Your curmudgeon will take care of you."

This brought about a laugh from Elsie for which he was grateful – she was gradually relaxing. After obtaining her nightgown and robe she adjourned to the bathroom first as was their unspoken routine. As Charles got changed he thought back to earlier that day. They'd all been in a state of shock when told they needed to organise and run a wedding. This was something they would usually plan for months. The family were kind enough to request something understated, simplicity…as much as one could understate the wedding of an Earl's daughter. Mrs Patmore had planned a menu in record time – Daisy in charge of the cake following the success of her creation for Lady Rose. But he couldn't have been more proud of his wife. His brilliant Else had mastered her vastly diminished staff and organised as good a wedding as she have prepared had she had months of warning. She was a marvel to him. Her capabilities as a housekeeper were phenomenal to say the least, he didn't like the term but she was the perfect housekeeper – not a perfect woman, despite his love he was not naive enough to believe her flawless. But her skills in her job had safely assured that Downton would never have as good a housekeeper again. She would deny it but he had been made aware of how much work she'd done herself – Anna had found her making up a guest room for Lady Shackleton, a job usually assigned to _both_ housemaids. How he could ever imply to her that she could no longer make a bed to his exacting standards, he couldn't fathom. He'd been cruel to her. Thankfully he had learnt his lesson after attempting to create dinner and a few days later they had spent a whole evening in absolute honesty with one another, discussing their thoughts and feelings about their married life so far.

When she returned he'd turned down the bed and built a small fire.

"You get comfortable my love, I'll just use the bathroom. But if you wouldn't mind could you lea…"

"Leave my hair up?" Her eyes gleamed.

"Please?"

She would indulge him and nodded as she slid beneath the covers. Charles couldn't help but chuckle. Following their wedding night he had discovered a fascination with her hair – the untamed masses seen by no one. Midway through their honeymoon he had plucked up the courage to ask if he might unpin it and even plait it. It had taken many attempts, some a little painful (though she hadn't admitted it) before he had mastered removing all the pins before he brushed. He still hadn't remotely grasped plaiting but she patiently showed him – on the other nights he would eagerly watch her anyway, fascinated by how her fingers could sculpt her hair without seeing it. One of those mysteries of women.

"Are you alright?"

She was observing him from her reclined position in bed. He'd absentmindedly wandered back into the bedroom amidst his musings of her, a soppy smile on his face.

"More than, my love."

A faint blush appeared on her cheeks and she tilted her head to the side as she smiled at him.

"Time to come to bed then."

He willingly obliged, after tossing his robe over her vanity's chair he joined her. Charles leant back against the headboard and guided his wife to sit before him. She felt his shuddered breath on the back of her neck, his hands hovered over her chignon. His thumbs slowly slipped through the curls to find the cold metal lost in a forest of sandy tendrils. It had gotten so light over the years. She hardly resembled the stern face housemaid, with kind eyes and mahogany hair that she had arrived with. She had been beautiful then but age had brought about a new beauty – something richer and mature, like one of the fine wines he handled and she certainly was an exquisite vintage.

A slight moan from in front of him brought him back, so often he found himself lost in thought of her. Elsie's moan had been brought about by his fingers now massaging her scalp. Her head lolled back as she became lost in his ministrations. A tight hairstyle brought about infrequent pain but a lot of aching – so she was especially glad of his massages.

"You spoil me."

"You're my wife, you deserve every second of it."

He heard a short breath and knew she was smiling.

"Who'd have known the imperious Charles Carson was such a romantic."

He placed a kiss on the nape of her neck.

"You've changed me for the better my dear. I feel I'm a better, kinder man because of you Elsie Hughes."

"Carson."

"Hmm?"

"Elsie…" She turned to him. "…Carson. Actually."

"So it is. Mrs Elsie May Carson."

For a moment they sat grinning at each other, the way they had on their wedding day – innocent smirks that translated to their sheer joy at final freedom to feel their love for one another both in themselves and to each other.  
Thinking back at this, Charles took hold of her left hand.

"It made you reminisce, today, didn't it?" Elsie nodded. "It made my heart jump, I don't mind admitting it, when you took my hand in church. Every Sunday we've been back there I think back to it. But today; the flowers, the words – it brought it all back."

"I was quite overcome, remembering our day, how it felt, how I feel and will feel, forever."

"It feels strange, to be so open about feelings."

"Unfamiliar but not uncomfortable I hope?"

"Of course my dear. Everything in this new life with you is wonderful."

After rewarding him with a soft peck on the lips, she coaxed him to lie back against the headboard, after depositing the pins to the side table and she lay with half of her body strewn over the broad expanse of his chest.

"Mr Carson. I have a feeling these are going to be the happiest of years."

"Mrs Carson. I would have to agree with you."

Charles believed after ten minutes of her silence he had lulled her to sleep with gentle strokes of her hair. He lowered his voice to what he could manage of a whisper.

"It's times like this I think of how much I prefer our time at the cottage, how much I think I'd like to live like this every day. Spending so much of my time with you, yet still having those moments alone. Maybe it's time…"

Elsie looked up in alarm.

"You're genuinely considering retirement?"

He was startled by her sudden movement, unaware she had even heard his words. "I am. I never thought it a possibility – leaving only seemed an option when I was utterly decrepit and unable to work"

"What's changed your mind?"

"I've realised the shortness of life, what with his Lordship's ulcer, Mister Matthew, Lady Sybil…you can't take life for granted and far too late I've realised I need to re-sort my priorities – which are you."

Tears were threatening to form in her eyes.

"Elsie if I'm to prove myself a worthy husband I must dedicate my life to your happiness and needs."

"Darling…"

"No no it's true. You do so much. You're a wonderful woman and a wonderful wife – I need to repay your kindness and love."

"You don't have to leave to do that."

"But I think I want to. I want to retire earlier to bid so I can hold you for longer before we sleep. And the same in the mornings I want us to battle through meals together." This prompted a laugh from both of them. "You shouldn't have to do it alone, I want to help. Then we can both work in the garden… I never realised the joy of time at my leisure until I saw my future entwined with yours.  
I know you're younger, still perfectly capable, energy as much as any of your maids to do your job but I'd love you to retire with me. Not immediately of course but please consider it – we're not struggling for money, Becky would be well taken care of. Never let it be said Charles Carson allowed his sister's comfort to be forgotten."

At this he found himself covered by his wife who had launched herself up at his chest.

"An unworthy husband? Never. You could never be that."

She didn't need to gush over him, they both knew how important his words were and their sentiment.  
They lay reclined in silence for a good few minutes.

"I confess it would be nice to not have to worry about when we sleep because we can lie in in the morning."

"I don't know how but you managed to make that sounds a little risqué."

She managed to mimic that giggle she'd elicited on their day at the beach.

"You know what I mean – wouldn't have to worry about when we were getting to sleep."

"Ever the practical one my dear."

"Speaking of which…"

"Say no more it's been a long day and you've worked harder than most."

They took a moment to manoeuvre themselves down into their customary positions – she on her back and he turned just slightly allowing their hands to claps in the small space between the, Whilst they loved cuddling, tightly wrapped in each other's arms, when it came to sleeping they had to be apart – too used to sleeping alone/. Though when they awoke more often than not he was spooned behind her or snuggled far closer than he had been. She suspected he waited for her to fall asleep before he moved. Elsie rained her hand to stroke his cheek with her knuckles, the smooth, cool sensation of her ring made him smile so he took her hand and kissed it.

"I am so glad I married you. I don't think I can ever tell you enough."

"Well you have the rest of your life my dear."

"Even more time to enjoy it too if we returned." He held his breath. "I think it's time."

"Truly?"

"Truly. I don't see this as the end thought. Simply us starting out on a new life together."

"The new chapter in the life of Mr and Mrs Carson."

"Then maybe we should begin planning for it?"

"In the morning my dear. For now, let's enjoy a restful night's sleep."

"December." She murmured. "I want to start nineteen twenty six as Elsie Carson, not Mrs Hughes."

"December." He agreed with a lingering kiss to her forehead.

_xXx_

By New Year's Eve, the Carson's possessions had been moved to their newly finished house on Brouncker Road ready for their first night there. Their decision to retire had been announced in November with Charles' a fortnight prior to his wife's. It had surprised and worried him no end, how soon she had decided she would retire with him. He vehemently repeated to her she had decades left in her but she would not be deterred, insisting on her wish for her primary role to be his wife. He had conceded in the end, after much reminding of how much more time to themselves they would.

Christmas had been a grand affair, owing to the happy return of Edith, now the Marchioness of Hexham, followed Mr and Mrs Aldridge with their happy news that they'd be expecting their first child in the spring. Whilst Lady Mary announced on Christmas day, her second child would arrive in the following summer. Charles would never admit to anyone but his wife that he had shed a tear at the news.

They had stayed well beyond midnight, after certain members of staff were remarkably reluctant to let them leave, knowing they would not be returning in the morning – Elsie was sure the shoulder of her dress could never be dried of Mrs Patmore's tears. But despite this neither of them felt inclined to go straight to bed, they felt warm and joyful from all the champagne. Charles especially for he knew what lay waiting at their house.  
He stood aside to let her to enter first but kept her held back in the hallway with the excuse of removing her coat for her, this allowed him to slip ahead of her into the living room. When she followed Elsie stopped dead in the doorway.

"What…"

The living room was decorated to form a simple but picturesque cottage Christmas. A modest tree had been erected in the corner, tiny electric lights pushed back between the branches which were adored with hand crafted glittering ornaments. Candles had been lit around the room casting hues of gold onto the furniture and fireplace in which fire embers glowed. Hanging from which were two stockings, each adorned with their initials.

"Merry Christmas Mrs Carson."

"It's already January." She couldn't help but tease him a little.

"I am aware. But it will be too long before we can have our first Christmas here so I thought, why not rewind the days a little." He encouraged her to cross the room to him. "After all, we have all the time in the world from now on."

"We do don't we?" Her face broke into the most dazzling smile. The flicking of firelight throughout the room was reflected in her eyes and he was too busy watching it dance across the pools of blue to realise he was staring. Her cool hand on his cheek brought him back and he emitted a smile that mirrored her own. "Merry Christmas Mr Carson…Charles."

And thus nineteen twenty six was welcomed by a former butler and housekeeper with a tender kiss.

_xXx_


End file.
